


Make all your amends and tell me when it's over

by se7ensecrets



Category: Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: 1.05 'Stardust City Rag', Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22829470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/se7ensecrets/pseuds/se7ensecrets
Summary: She wondered if she had been too late, until she heard that familiar low rumble descend from the hallway, and she instinctively turned towards it, all but leaned into it.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Comments: 66
Kudos: 304





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place right after episode 1.05 'Stardust City Rag' of Star Trek: Picard. I tried to imagine what part Janeway would play in the aftermath and this is what came. Idk if this qualifies as a fix-it but I feel like I'm mending something here lol. Hope you enjoy!

She had beamed into Admiral Kathryn Janeway’s home just past midnight. The lights inside were mostly off, only a lamp on a side table near the foyer illuminated the front room. She wondered if she had been too late, until she heard that familiar low rumble descend from the hallway, and she instinctively turned towards it, all but leaned into it.

“Seven, is that you?”

Her tired eyes strained as she attempted to make out the figure standing in shadow, the lower half of a dark silk robe all that picked up under the scarce lighting. Her heart caught as the figure slowly stepped forward, her face finally greeting the light, like a balm for her aching soul.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late.”

She gave her an easy smile and it felt like coming home. “I hardly know what’s considered late anymore. Drink?”

Seven nodded. “Please,” and began to follow her lead. 

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that hung on the wall before she passed. Her lip was partially split and blood had dried in its cracks. A man elbowing her in the face flashed before her, and she quickly licked and wiped the remnants off as she made her way down the darkened hallway, her eyes trained on Kathryn Janeway’s long, pale hair.

They sat on the balcony that over looked the San Francisco bay, each with a tumbler of bourbon in hand. A quiet and comfortable stillness sat between them that Seven had craved, had come in search for. She leaned her head back against the reclined chair and closed her eyes, let the sound of the water and the companionship of the woman who lounged at her side fill her.

She knew Janeway was looking at her, could always feel her eyes, her concern; like a gentle, phantom hand on her shoulder. But Seven’s words were meeting a towering wall.

It had been awhile since she was last there, a little over two months. This wasn’t exactly unusual, but this time it was different for Seven, because for the first time in over a decade she could finally begin to feel her blood slow in her veins, could finally allow herself to be still after going so hard for so long. But the shadows still lingered, swirled around in her mind, unrelenting. And nothing would ever make them retreat. 

But then that voice, the one that always parted through the thick smoke, offering a momentary solace. 

“You’re quieter than usual,” Janeway had tried to broach, lightly teasing. Her voice was as thick as the bourbon that effortlessly slid down Seven's throat, only it didn’t burn.

Seven let silence stretch a moment before opening her eyes. “May I use your shower?”

Janeway sighed, but gave her patience. “Of course.”

A real shower was welcome after months of sonic showers. They got the job done, but Seven missed the catharsis of running water washing away her battles. Of Bjayzl, of Icheb. 

Icheb… She’d always blame herself for what had happened to him. Even now that it was over, revenge and justice only took the edge off. The shame she carried could never be washed clean, she knew. But Bjayzl’s death was for her child, not her own peace of mind. 

She stood under the hot stream until it ran cold.

Once out—hair dried off with a towel—she retrieved a spare pair of pajamas in the linen closet that she always left there, quickly slipped them on, and stepped out into the bedroom. 

The light from the bathroom door shone on Janeway’s back. She was in bed and turned away, laying on her side. Asleep.

Seven gingerly climbed into bed beside her, careful not to disturb. She leaned over her for a moment, taking in the sight of her, at peace. Something she felt she’d never truly have. She gently brushed her pale hair off her neck and proceeded to dip her face toward it, took in the smell of her before placing a soft kiss just below her ear.

Retreating, she laid down on her back and stared up at the ceiling, not expecting sleep to come.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up or do I have to drag it out of you?”

Seven almost startled. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.” Janeway yawned and rolled over to face her. “And now I’m awake, and I’m very interested to know about that cut on your lip.”

She knew Janeway had noticed the moment she laid eyes on her in the foyer, but tried to cover up any visible evidence of the days goings on, a simple politeness extended to her.

She took her time answering, not quite sure how to say it. She didn't have the energy to go over every detail, exhaustion filling her bones. So she put it simply.

“It’s over.” Seven turned to her, meeting her slate blue eyes that now swam with worry and empathy. “I finally got her.”

There was no need to explain further as her face began to break for the first time that day, and Janeway didn’t hesitate to pull her into her arms. Seven immediately took shelter in her warm chest, the beating of her heart like an old, familiar song as the tears swelled and released.

There hadn’t been a day that’d gone by for Seven where she didn’t think about Kathryn Janeway. No matter how long they’re apart, how little they’d talked or checked in, they always came back to one another with grudges and outside conflicts left at the front door. When they were together, they were together. Nothing more, nothing less. And Seven relished every movement of those delicate hands threading through her damp hair now, with lips at her temple and hushed whispers of comfort as she cried, the gentle rocking of their bodies. 

When things subsided, leaving Seven bereft, she started to pull back. “I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”

Janeway gave her a look that told her she wasn’t having it and tugged her back, tucking Seven’s head underneath her chin. “Don’t be ridiculous. Stay. It’s been awhile.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to risk them finding out where I am, or you.”

“A fine decision you’ve made in coming here, then," she husked.

“I was selfish, I know. A habit I can’t seem to break with you.”

Janeway smirked. “Well, I suppose all is forgiven. Unless a bunch of phaser wielding outlaws burst in here tomorrow morning. Then I’ll be pissed.”

Seven lifted her head and looked at her. “You have two phaser rifles strapped to the bottom of this bed.”

A single eyebrow raised in her direction. “So? I like to be prepared for whatever life throws at me.”

They stared at one another a beat before they both broke out in laughter, each settling back down into the bed and the softness of each other. Seven thought sleep might come after all.


	2. Show me there's still fire inside your bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left such sweet comments! I really wasn't expecting such an enthusiastic response.
> 
> I hadn't originally planned on a continuation of this, but after seeing a few people asking for more, I found myself giving it some thought and managed to write up one last bit for these two. This part is a smidgen dirty, just a heads up.
> 
> Thank you again and hopefully you enjoy. <3

The dawn was only just beginning to peak through the grey curtains when Janeway woke the following morning, but it was to the gentle rubbing of her back and a full, seeking mouth pressed to her throat that had brought her back to the world.

 _Seven_ , she thought, Seven was still in her bed. 

When she told her she was leaving in the morning, Janeway assumed it would be before she got up, her sleep addled mind deciphering a hazy goodbye and a whisper of a kiss that later would feel like a dream; but was more than pleased—elated, even—that she’d been wrong.

“Good morning,” Janeway rasped, sleep making her voice even huskier than normal.

Mouth preoccupied, Seven nipped at her collarbone, making her hum at the light sting of it.

A shiver broke out across her body at the feel of her cybernetic hand, it's ridges causing goosebumps as it trailed under her night shirt, pushing the fabric up to bring full breasts into the cool air of the room. Her left nipple all but slipped into Seven’s mouth as her tongue coaxed it inside, and gave it a very generous tug. 

“You’re eager,” Janeway mused aloud, half dazed at the attention she was receiving, and brought her hands up to brush part of Seven’s long blonde hair out of her face, it having blanketed across her features in golden waves.

Seven’s unveiled eyes flashed up at her, a nipple still deep in her mouth and with a fiery blue gaze filled with purpose, as if she had something to win. It was a look Janeway was well enough acquainted with to know what she was in for, and she squeezed her eyes shut as arousal quickly took hold, her hips beginning to cant into the other woman seemingly on their own.

She threw her head back and moaned when Seven brazenly slipped a palm between her legs and fully cupped her over her underwear. She was desperate for her to stroke her there, it having been far too long, but the hand remained stubbornly still; merely a suggestion of what would soon come, leaving Janeway no choice but to tighten her thighs around it and attempt to push against it, anything that would give friction.

Between her audible breathing, a light pop sounded as Seven released her overly sensitive nipple and admired her work for a short duration, her chest now a blooming red.

“Feeling satisfied?” Janeway teased, her breathing teetering on the side of labored as she peered at her with heavy lidded eyes.

She swallowed against a dry throat when Seven pressed her down on her back, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her underwear, pulling them down and off.

“When it comes to you, I find satisfaction is difficult to maintain.”

She would have laughed, a full and deep chuckle in the center of her chest at the almost cliche, yet still lovely remark, but Seven was scooting further down the bed, down the length of her, with long, capable arms looping themselves around her thighs and Janeway couldn’t help the whimper that poured from her throat then. 

When those full lips finally pressed where she wanted them most, as Seven’s mouth opened against her and a warm, unbelievably soft tongue languidly bathed along her heated flesh, instinct readily took over and Janeway clutched the bed linens at her sides. She willed her hips not to buck, wanted to concentrate on the sensations, wanted to make it last and take it in for as long as she could withstand.

But Seven had other ideas, ones that called for Janeway’s hands at her head, handfuls of that silky blonde hair bunched into fists. Seven’s arms relaxed and hung loose about her thighs, a silent permission to let Janeway grind against every thorough lick, her tongue flat but pliable against her clit.

Her back arched when she started to switch between swirling and sucking, a delicate mix of motions, neither of which Janeway could possibly fight against as the pleasure started to build quickly, coiled and expanded inward as the sound of her voice hitched higher.

When she fell over the edge, Seven’s name cascaded out, the name caught on her wave until it crashed down and receded. 

Body now languished and sated, her hands fell from Seven’s hair as the other woman wiped her mouth against the inside of her thigh.

“Sorry, but I needed that,” Seven remarked, needing to catch her breath just as much as Janeway and leaned her cheek against her leg for a moment.

Her head felt like a bag of bricks yet simultaneously weightless as she lifted her neck to look down at Seven. “What’s there to apologize about?” Janeway was certain that she was the one who had needed it more.

Suddenly, Seven had disentangled herself and was perched on her knees above her. “Breakfast?”

“Hold on, hold on.” She tried to hold up a hand in protest, but her wrist went limp and hit the bed. “You’re going at warp speed here. I’ve barely had time to catch my breath.”

“There was a time when that was the only speed you knew.”

Janeway gave a command level glare. “Don’t test me, please.”

Seven smirked.

* * *

After a light breakfast and a shower, Janeway walked into her study. The morning light now streaked through the open blinds on the windows, illuminating the modest but well-furnished room. 

There was a replica of Voyager on the wall, along with a few commendations that hung around it, and dozens of photographs of friends and family, of B’Elanna and Miral, Phoebe and mom.

She absently ran a finger over a particular one of herself and Seven that sat on her desk. It had been taken not long after they’d returned to Earth.

The Seven in the photo, so different from the one now and yet so much the same. She might not have gone on to be that science officer she’d envisioned, or working at the Daystrom Institute, but the only real hope Janeway ever really had for her was that she found where she belonged, was needed, and that she did right by others. Her current line of work hadn’t always sat well with her ideals, but that soon had dissolved when she saw how much people like Seven, like the rangers, were needed in those sectors.

And Janeway had gotten used to missing her when she was out there. Truth be told, they’re both content to lead their own busy lives, and it worked for them, but that didn’t mean it didn’t come with it’s own set of drawbacks. And she supposed that’s what kept the fire alive between them most of the time.

Beside the old photo of her and Seven was one Janeway had taken herself, of Seven and Icheb when he’d first been accepted into Starfleet Academy, adorned in a cadet uniform with Seven’s hand on his shoulder, stoic but dotting. 

Those years after Icheb’s death had been exceedingly difficult, the damage losing him had inflicted upon Seven completely irreparable. She knew she couldn’t take it away, couldn’t mend it. All she could do was be there, and let her go when she needed to be, to let her burn and have those who deserved it get caught up in her flames.

She was pulled out of her reverie when she heard Seven enter, fully re-dressed in the clothes she'd arrived in last night, and a cup of coffee in her hands that she knew was meant for her and smiled.

“I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“I was just coming to tell you…” Seven trailed off, eyes downcast as she extended the hot beverage to her.

“Ahh, and you thought you’d soften the blow with a cup of coffee.” She tilted her head toward the mug to take in it’s aroma.

Seven’s ocular brow quirked up. “If I’m being honest, I thought that wake up call I gave you this morning was me _softening the blow_ , but however you wish to see it.”

Janeway almost choked on her first sip, but Seven’s smug smile had been worth it. “Oh, is that what that was?”

“More or less," Seven bluffed, switching her weight from one foot to the other.

Janeway stepped closer, almost slinked into the other woman’s personal space. “You didn’t let me repay the favor.”

All of a sudden Seven’s eyes lost their playfulness. “No favors. You can take your chances with me next time.”

“See that I do.” An earnestness captured her gaze. It had been her way of saying, _take care that there’s a next time_ _to be had_.

Seven paused, looked into her eyes for what felt like the first time in a year before she reached out and brushed her hair off her shoulder. Janeway sighed as Seven cupped the side of her neck, her thumb resting against her cheek, and bent slightly to bring their mouths together in a tender press of lips. 

“I’ll see you.” Seven whispered, the words drifting over Janeway’s skin as her hand found hers and gave it a squeeze before stepping away.

Janeway tried to burn the image of her into her brain as Seven disappeared behind the closing door.


End file.
